The Real You
by Gohanroxme
Summary: In which Gray finds out that Juvia has a doll of him in her room. He examined it fixedly, vigilantly tracing his fingers along the careful stitches and seams that were clearly not the work of an amateur. "You have a doll of me in your room?" Gray X Juvia.


The Real You- Gray finds out that Juvia has a doll of him in her room.

_A/N: You know, I kept wanting to make a fic about that doll shown in Juvia's room in the first OVA, so _whala_! In other words, GrUvia fluff! And . . . I couldn't think of a good title. T_T_

He examined it fixedly, vigilantly tracing his fingers along the careful stitches and seams that were clearly not the work of an amateur. "You have a doll of me in your room?"

Her chin was rested on his shoulder as she knelt behind him on the bed, her breath ticking his neck. He noticed that her cheeks were red when he took a questioning glance toward her.

"Erm . . . yes. Should Juvia have told Gray-sama earlier? He's never been in her room before, so she didn't think to mention it . . . ."

"No, it's fine, really," he murmured, running his fingers gently through the plush's silken hair. It felt utterly familiar. "Just a surprise . . . ."

Actually, he thought he recalled Erza or Lucy bringing it up that Juvia had a "doll you" in her room a long while before they'd started dating, but he'd never really thought much about it. Nevertheless, it was still quite a surprise that she still had it, even though she had him now, the _real_ him. She must've been pretty fond of it.

The doll was delicately constructed, he had to admit, sewn with a soft material that he couldn't identify. The stitches were fine, neat and exact and he figured that Juvia must've been quite nimble in the art of sewing, what with how . . . flawless the doll looked.

It was dressed in blue and black and the hair . . . the hair was something else, entirely, silky and cool, and just as disheveled as his own at times. Every tweak and trait of its locks matched his perfectly. The feel was magnificent, so totally familiar in a way . . . . In fact, it felt like —

She seemed to read his mind, outstretching her hand to touch the hair as well. "It's Juvia's own hair . . . ."

He nodded in understanding. "When you cut it that time . . . ."

"So Gray-sama had actually noticed." Her smile was amused.

He winked fondly at her, watching the tint in her cheeks grow darker. "Of course." He'd noticed everything she'd done.

Experimentally, he lifted the bangs and studied the area of the forehead and was instantly taken aback. He'd checked just as a test, but hadn't really expected it to _be_ there.

He gingerly fingered the curved, reddish black line that was sewn in right above his left eye, stunned. "How'd . . . you know I had that above my eye?" It was his scar, the one he'd gotten from Lyon back during the Deliora incident. And she'd seen it, even though he knew it was always veiled by his hair.

"Oh, Juvia just pays attention to those sort of things," she answered lightly.

He arched an eyebrow, but said nothing, continuing to flip the little plush of himself around in his hands. It was amazing. Juvia was amazing.

"How long did it take you to make this?" He asked her several beats later, while raising the shirt to reveal his impeccably placed Fairy Tail stamp. "It's really cool."

She was quiet for a long moment before crawling around to sit beside him, close enough so that their arms were touching, shoulder-to-elbow.

"Juvia doesn't remember," she said at last, her voice soft and thoughtful. "It was rather a long time ago when she made it, but Juvia suspects that it didn't take long, because back then, Juvia really . . . yearned for Gray-sama, so the doll had to have been her next best thing . . . ."

Her words really burned something within him, something akin to guilt for all the time that he'd wasted while unintentionally neglecting her when they could've been together.

He looked toward her, only to find her staring musingly at her thighs, and almost impulsively, he rested one of his hands gently on her knee.

"It's cool," he told her again. "I really like it, Juvia. You did such a nice job . . . ."

"Honestly, Gray-sama?" Her cobalt eyes flickered up to meet his for a second. "Because Juvia always thought that Gray-sama would find it obsessive and strange."

His hand gave her knee a squeeze, and he briefly wondered when he'd gotten so . . . affectionate. "Honestly, Juvia."

She cracked one of those tiny, wistful grins that always caused his heart to rend, peering timidly up at him from under dark eyelashes. "You know, Gray-sama . . . I made this because I was lonely back then . . . ."

'_I made this because I was lonely back then.'_

A slip of _her _tongue, he realized.

He always had a liking toward her third person speech, found it _cute_, but now he noticed how she was averting that habit quite frequently now. And he'd no right to change her, so he'd never really objected to it as much as he'd like to.

'_I made this because I was lonely back then.'_

Her former loneliness was continuously something she'd spare speaking of, and when she did, he'd always find it difficult to listen to, struggling to hear it behind all the guilt and sorrow he was feeling. Because he hadn't been there for her.

He hadn't been there for her when she was alone.

"The only one Juvia was really fond of when she joined Fairy Tail was Gray-sama . . . and maybe Lucy." She gazed at him, a fragment of the intense longing she'd used to have for him still vivid in her eyes. "Juvia had one of Lucy too, but she lost her somewhere in here, despite all the tidiness . . ."

Her words, regardless of how pensive and light and contemplative she'd made them sound, were sad to him. He could accurately pinpoint the layers of despondency beneath what she'd said, a talent that he'd always had when it came to her.

So he instinctively took her gently by the hips, pulling her into his lap, and wrapped his arms loosely around her stomach, something he often did when he sensed that she was troubled, because it always seemed to calm her down.

"Well, you have me, Juvia," he mumbled softly into her sapphire locks. "Me, the _real_, _non_-plush Gray Fullbuster who will entirely love you back."

The contentedness of the sigh that had emitted faintly from her lips tickled his heart as she leaned back against his chest, her hair barely brushing his cheeks.

"Juvia is so happy that she does." She groped for his hand and he gave it to her, only for her to intertwine her slender fingers with his. "Be-Because sometimes, Juvia has nightmares where she never met Gray-sama, where it keeps on raining and her only company is the doll of an unknown, handsome man."

Her voice was sheepish and he smiled despite himself; her imagination was still as wild as ever and he knew that she knew that as he was with her, it would never unnaturally rain again.

As long as he was with her, there would be no need for another him, no need for that doll.

She seemed to read his mind for the second time that day, and set it gently aside.

_A/N: Short and sweet, eh? Wanna throw me a short (loooong) and sweet review now? LOL, JK. _

_Ok, so, I was originally gonna do a second part where Gray makes a doll of Juvia just out of affection, or something, and I might actually do a second chapter including that._

_LOL, subsequent omake has been on my mind for a while. I was supposing to add it to the story, but it would mess up the passionate drive . . . . ._

**((Omake))**

"Hey, I . . . I think I found your Lucy . . . ." Gray reaches down as he spots a little, plush foot sticking out from between the three heart-shaped pillows that are under Juvia's window.

He carefully removes the pillows, only to reveal the doll of a blonde that is clearly Lucy, only skewered through with multiple needles.

Needles are poked into her head, her stomach, her back, her chest, which is strangely almost uncharacteristically _flat_, and anywhere else where there is room.

"Oh."

Juvia seems to flinch at that.

"Oh, y-yes . . . Juvia stopped using her for company ages ago . . . ," she mumbles, hastily kicking it to the side. "She has no need for that anymore. It never worked, anyway . . . ."

Gray merely stares at her, wondering if she had quite acknowledged that she was the victorious one and didn't have to play love-rival with Lucy.


End file.
